Here’s a reminder that needs to remain forever flashing in my peripheral vision: there will be time enough for me. Not sure what I’m going to do with it. Even if I had definite plans, the idea of coming unstuck from normal, everyday situations becomes the ultimate isolation prize: the dog that catches the car.

I’m attempting a month of humility:
Humility simply requires a man to think of his abilities and his actions as no greater, and no lesser, than they really are. Real humility then mandates that a man knows and is completely honest with himself.

It’s the wet overcoat feeling of wishing to be done. Over with. When do I get to do what I want? It’s alcoholism in its purest form. A screaming infant that only can be satiated by a bottle. And for the longest time, that was to only way I knew how to quiet the baby.

Of course, I never tried rocking, singing, walking, driving, burping, cuddling or playing. My addiction can be summed up in three words: baby wants bottle.

Which is tremendous growth. The words used to be: baby needs bottle.

And what’s the best thing for my ego-baby? Humility, properly applied. Here’s how I’m working it. When the low-rolling thunder of discontent and pride is heard in the distance, right up to where it’s a wall of wailing sound, I have the opportunity to say, out loud, “You’re not special. Everybody would rather be doing something else. So you don’t feel like playing today, fine. You can cling tight until five o’clock if you like. Just don’t be an ass to everyone around you.”

Getting to the problem while it’s still a giant noise in my head is crucial. Scenario: Here comes a salesperson through my door with another stupid request. My humility actually lifts me up here, suit up and show up. I perform no eye-rolls. No deep exhales. No slumping of shoulders like this person just crapped on the floor. I smile when I greet them, and actually attempt to engage in a positive way with this human being. Miss Manners stuff, I know, but somewhere along the way I stopped doing what comes naturally to most.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s